


The Lost Four

by Ebi_Everburning



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Body Shaming, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multiverse, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebi_Everburning/pseuds/Ebi_Everburning
Summary: And here they are, sitting on the floor at the same distance they would keep from a weird stranger. The air is filled with suspicious glances, some fear and an even greater curiosity.Why are they all alike? Are they… the same person?Impossible, I’m not like that– they all think. Some with pride, some other without.Then, how come they all have the same face, voice and name? How come they feel so different, yet so close?They want to know, and so they start finding out.
Relationships: Kabu/Himself, Kabu/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	The Lost Four

**Author's Note:**

> What would you do if you ended up in a room with three of your alter egos?  
> Kabu multiverse fic where he gets to better understand himself by listening to his different counterparts.
> 
> I tried to keep it simple as English is not my first language. If you have any recommendation my ears are open!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

He wakes up to a wide, empty room in the middle of nowhere. At least, this is what it feels like.

“What place is this?” He wonders, calling for his daughter’s name. “Maki?” She was standing next to him just a moment ago, both working together as it has always been. He saw her turning back to the counter. Then, the void. 

He has no memory of what happened next, but maybe those two people over there have a better idea of where she might be. He gets up from the wide, shiny black floor, back aching as usual while he forces his spine to stay straight; a whole life bending to his dishes has made him older than he actually is, hurting in his bones as well as in his spirit.

It is at times like this that he wonders how things would be if he had made different choices.

“Excuse me.” He approaches the two strangers with his polite Hoennian, late in realising that they are speaking a language he has no knowledge of. He doesn’t understand what they’re saying, nor he can clearly see their faces, but the tones are high, especially from the man on the left who is angrily shouting at the other. He is wearing an elegant black suit, a few rings and a flame-red tie. His obviously dyed hair is perfectly slicked back, leaving just one lock behind. It must not be his choice to let it out, he thinks, as he keeps pulling it back with a nervous movement of his hand.

“Sorry?” Having been ignored the first time, he tries wording it easier, and it works as the posh individual turns to him, getting angrier when he figures out who he is.

“Another one? Great. If this is a joke it’s everything but fun!” He shouts in that same, unknown language. The newcomer is staring at him in shock: he has probably just realised the great resemblance between the two of them. He just hopes he didn’t look so miserable when he figured out the same thing only a few minutes ago. That man might have his sharp eyes and cheekbones, his thick eyebrows and straight nose, but for the rest he looks nothing like him. He has such a messy attire, with his grey hair pointing everywhere and his hands being so dry that a quick look is enough to tell. He is wearing a dirty apron over a bunch of casual, anonymous clothes and he smells like low cost cuisine.

Really, it can only be a joke.

“Stop speaking Galarian! He doesn’t understand you, can’t you see it?”

It’s in the middle of that confusing glance exchange that a third voice joins in, speaking an incredibly perfect Hoennian. The man in the apron meets the one on his right, shocked again to learn how greatly he resembles him despite being awkwardly fat. His plain, white pajamas is partially hidden under the blue night robe that runs down his body, carelessly untied to show up the voluminous shapes of his belly and chest.

“Hey, I’m up here.” He states, annoyed at those eyes pointing everything but his face. “I know how you feel, I’m confused too.” His tone is calmer than the other individual, and, more importantly, his words make sense. “I bet your name is Kabu, right?”

The newcomer nods slowly, swallowing down as he starts wondering when he’ll be waking up from that weird dream.

“I am Kabu… as well.” Says the other with a soft voice, trying to make him feel at ease, abruptly getting cut off the second after.

“ _As well?_ ” His suit, lean double chuckles. “Please, do not act as if we were the same. We are _nothing_ alike.” His arms are crossed, his sight disrespectfully elsewhere.

“His name is Kabu, too.” Goes ahead the kinder homonymous. “But as he said, he is nothing like us. Thankfully.”

“Oh, stop playing it cool, you fat-ass loser! You are the worst nightmare here.”

The two start arguing again, both switching back to that Galarian the apron man ignores. Maybe, he should make his move and stop them, but for some reason he just stands there, watching them fighting. The suit Kabu is so angry that his face is almost matching the colour of his tie, he even stopped pulling back that rebel lock, which is now swinging freely on his forehead.

“What’s going on here?”

Then, a fourth individual approaches. He is speaking Hoennian, sounds and looks the same as all of them, but he is genuinely worried to learn what’s happening more than anything else.

“I don’t know.” Answers his lost-looking interlocutor, suddenly remembering what he had come to ask. “Have you seen my daughter? She is this tall, with black hair… tied in a ponytail!” Panic is growing bigger word after word as the other stares at him in shock.

“Your… daughter?”

“Yes, my daughter!”

The word echoes loudly in the emptiness of the room and everyone’s attention is brought to the last who joined. He is wearing a red, sporty uniform that all of them except the apron man know well.

“Are you kidding me?” Says the short tempered of the quartet. “Downgraded to gym leader? Now I’ve seen everything!”

“Wash your mouth, it’s an honourable title!” Fights back his greatest enemy.

The gym leader’s attention moves from the elegant man who spoke first to the one in the blue robe, pausing on the latter with a slightly more shocked look.

“You all make that face.” Eye-rolls the overweight individual, tired of even caring anymore.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” The uniform Kabu looks back at the first double he interacted with, trying to piece together as much as he can. “So… you have a daughter.” He says, still unable to process the information. “What’s her name?”

“Maki.”

The room goes quiet as he glances at the other two to see if they were familiar with the name. They both shake their head as none of them, including him, has ever had any child.

He takes a deep breath, conscious of having to deal with the hardest people in the world. “Alright… I think we all need to sit down and have a talk.”

And here they are, sitting on the floor at the same distance they would keep from a weird stranger. The air is filled with suspicious glances, some fear and an even greater curiosity.

Why are they all alike? Are they… the same person?

_Impossible, I’m not like that_ – they all think. Some with pride, some other without.

Then, how come they all have the same face, voice and name? How come they feel so different, yet so close?

They want to know, and so they start finding out.

“I don’t know how I ended up here, nor what kind of place this is.” The one who joined last is ironically the first to speak up, setting the conversation to a moderate tone level. “I was jogging like every morning, then… I found myself here.”

The apron man, who is sitting far to his left, sighs in anguish, following up in the dialogue with a miserable look. “I was at work, with my daughter.” His lost eyes are pointing the deep black floor, recalling the girl’s face. “She told me something and then… I have no clue.” His words end with a sorrowful sound, and for a moment no voice is heard.

Then, the gym leader, who took over the situation, turns to the man on his right, that is sitting holding one leg, chin resting on his knee as he takes some time to recall his actions.

“I was home.” He claims plainly, following up with a not-so-due proof of statement. “As you can see from the typical home attire.” He dares a soft smile, feeling awkwardly at ease in the middle of that group therapy with his clones.

“And you?” The gym leader asks to the man straight in front of him, who doesn’t seem interested in sharing his story or listening to the other’s. “What were you doing?”

The elegant individual scoffs at the call, refusing to be part of what he sees as an useless talk. “Who cares?” He declares, chuckling maliciously. “None of you is real."

“What do you mean?” Questions the apron man, having had the same feeling since he got there.

“It’s just a silly, mischievous nightmare. I’m the real one and you represent my fears, or something like that.”

“You watch too much Netflix!” His most hated double laughs as his smile turns wider.

“Oh, I bet you spend more time on your couch than I do.”

“You’d be surprised to learn I in fact don’t.”

“Hey, the two of you, stop it now!” The gym leader once again takes over the situation. “We are not sitting here to yell at each other, we are sitting here to understand what’s going on.”

“It looks like someone has self-proclaimed the boss.” The arrogant, well dressed Kabu growls back, sick of being told what to do. “Say, why should I listen to someone wearing that old-fashioned uniform?” He adds up with scorn.

“Would you rather do that instead? Take the lead?” He is thoughtful and calm, that’s why. “Go ahead, if you like. But fighting won’t tell us why we are here.”

The other looks away, mumbling some words of swearing as he declines the offer by finally answering his question. “I was playing golf, just like I do every Sunday morning.”

“Bullshit.”

The comment comes from his left, where the man in his nightwear is looking at him in disdain. “I’m _not_ lying.” He asserts through his teeth, putting an extra emphasis on the middle word.

“Then, why are you dressed like that?”

This time, the voice reaches to him from his right where the ever confused apron man is questioning his attire. He looks down at himself and his heartbeat inexplicably increases as he first notices his own clothes.

_Right_ , why is he wearing that suit? He is pretty sure he had worn his usual merino wool cardigan over a white shirt and rather than a tie he had chosen a more proper, equally red scarf. The outfit doesn’t even look familiar to him, being different from any other elegant dress he owns.

An unpleasant feeling of hopelessness overwhelms him, bringing him back to miserable times he hates recalling. He quickly scrolls off his shock to display a renewed self-confident attitude as he bluntly takes down the conversation. “It’s none of your business.”

Again, the room goes quiet until a second round of questions kicks in. It’s always the last who joined to start asking, the others being either careless, scared or unwilling to do so. “That apron… what do you do?” He looks at the man on his left as if he deep down knew the answer to his doubts.

“I’m a cook.” Says the other, promptly laughed at by the unfriendliest of the group.

They all ignore him, more interested in learning what else is hiding behind that statement.

“I own a cafe in Hoenn.”

“As in… _your father’s_ cafe?”

“Yes.” The surprise in the humble individual is almost needless; it’s evident by now that they share more than just a few features. “ _Our_ father’s, I guess? I took over when he died.”

The atmosphere gets more tense. Everyone is wondering the same thing, pointing at the apron man to increase that sense of heavy discomfort he has been feeling since they all sat to talk.

He sighs; to be honest, he just wants to find his daughter.

“Haven’t you moved to Galar?” Keeps going the gym leader, speaking for the group.

“No. Why would I?”

There is a glance exchange between the three listeners and no word is needed to tell how shocked and clueless that last confession left them.

“Weren’t you invited to Galar after you beat the Hoenn Pokémon League?”

“I’ve never beaten the Pokémon League. I gave up on my trainer career long time ago.”

“Oh, that explains why you don’t know the language.” Unexpectedly, the observation comes from the person who refused to talk all along.

“Good take, detective.” Jokes the man in his bed-time clothes. “I’m impressed.”

Before another fight could start, the gym leader calls out the last speaker, investigating on his identity. “And you?” He interrogates him. “What do you do?”

The man changes position, thick legs parted to the floor as he scratches his large belly in a way that makes his double on the right groaning in disgust. He doesn’t pay attention to that, focusing on his new interlocutor only. “I lead a gym in the Minor League.” He starts, his sight intense as he follows up with more details. “But I used to be like you.”

“In the Majors?”

“Yes.”

No sound is heard for a while as they keep looking at each other, both knowing what’s coming next. Kabu, the one in his sporty uniform, has his eyes fastened on the other’s, letting no comment or judgement to slip out of his lips as he digs into his past with a genuine interest. “What happened to you?”

A small contraction at the corner of his mouth makes the homonymous to smile in bitterness as he replies with the most obvious yet unpredictable reason ever. “Nothing.” He states bluntly. “What happened to me was just… nothing.”

The other sighs thoughtfully. He remembers his time in the Minors very well. It was not easy or pleasant and he can still feel the humiliation of being told he should have stayed in Hoenn. His so-long-cherished dream was struck within a year time, where all of his accomplishments were quickly buried by the poison-filled headlines of magazines and papers. People didn’t like him anymore, his creatures weren’t motivated to fight and he gradually lost track of his ambitions. He fell into a deep, dark depression that led him to think there was no place for him to stay, no home to welcome him and no future to be looking forward to.

It was one boy, a prodigy born from the roots of that hostile yet beautiful country to raise his spirit and push him to fight again. “Leon.” He almost whispers, eyes pointing the void. “It was Leon to make me find the motivation again.”

The room is silent as he follows up with a short, yet crucial memory of his past.

“ _It was an honour to challenge such a legend._ ” He smiles, quoting the words that saved him. “I miserably lost to his extraordinary, young talent. Yet, to him… I was still the legend.” A couple of decades part him from that day, but his eyes are still watering recalling the boy’s face, who is now a man that held the champion seat for eight, unforgettable years, before passing it to another, skilled youngster.

He sighs, slowly finding his composure while his not-as-lucky double comes back at him, displaying as intense feelings.

“Well, whoever this Leon is, I wish I had met him too.” He looks at his homonymous, genuinely glad of his renewed will to go forward. He could be sitting at his place, wearing his uniform and directing the orchestra of the lost four if he only had run into the same boy. He wonders though, what it would be of the man in his white pajamas and blue robe if things actually went differently for him. Would be the place he is sitting at… empty?

His heart shivers and his limbs feel weak at the thought. He looks at his palms and his lips part in awareness as he slowly finds himself back again. He belongs to that body like never before, his skin and heart and soul are joining into one single being that can’t be replaced, nor he wants to. It’s a warm, nostalgic sensation that brings his knees to his chest, curling him up in safeness.

“Hey.”

He suddenly comes back to reality, prompted by the other man’s call; a strong grip is holding him tight and he is shocked yet relieved to learn that it comes from nothing but his very own arms.

“Are you ok?”

A small tear quietly falls down his cheek when the gym leader checks on him from far, wondering and caring. “Yes.” He replies, words shaking for the overwhelming feeling of love he has just rediscovered. “I actually… never felt better in a long time.”

No particular reaction comes from the other two, who have been witnessing the exchange in silence. The man in his suit is looking away, reluctant to take part to that pitiful scenario not even for taunting it, while the other is pointing exactly at him, wondering what made him the person he is.

“You’re not going to tell us what you do, right?” Asks the humble individual, looking at his well dressed counterpart.

The man gives him a scornful huff. He hates to be predictable, so he finds a way to twist the question in his favour. “Oh, you don’t want to know.” He says, looking down at each of those went-wrong replicas. “It’d make you feel miserable.”

“Go on.” Ready to talk again, the gym leader comes back as the voice of the group. “We are not afraid.”

A fierce half-smile stretches the arrogant man’s lips as he waits for all of them to focus on his figure before revealing the harsh truth. “I’m the champion of the Galar Pokémon League.” He starts, already been stared in disbelief. “I’ve been for quite a while, actually.” He then confesses, hiding no pride.

The overall shock is clear, being more obvious in the man sitting right in front of him. His eyes are widened and he swallows down as he looks at that version of him who has accomplished his long-chased goal. “How?” He asks. “I mean, I’ve been trying so hard but despite the efforts there was always someone younger and talented ready to take me down. How did you make it?”

The champion raises his shoulders with a careless look, as if climbing to the title was a breeze to him. “I didn’t do anything in particular, I’m just strong.” His smug words echo into the room sounding like a noise; it’s what he can do best, to leave his opponents with an helpless look on their face. He doesn’t really have much more he likes showing.

“I know.” The gym leader finds back his balance and his feet touch ground again. “But being strong is not enough sometimes. Sometimes you end up facing enemies who are just… too much for you.”

His last statement stops by the man in his nightwear, waking his deepest sorrows, before reaching their actual recipient.

“Nothing is too much for me.” _Not anymore_ – thinks the posh look-alike, making a weapon out of his guilt.

“Haven’t you happened to meet any incredibly strong trainer?” Kabu swallows, choosing no random name. “How about Raihan?” His question is more than just a way to investigate on his career, he is wondering if becoming like him is still a valuable option.

This time, no smiles or fierce attitude is seen in response. Quite the opposite, a cold look penetrates the air to strike right into its target with plain, hard-found indifference. “I won when he wasn’t in charge.” States the champion, spelling each word with impassive low voice.

“Why?” The gym leader’s head slightly turns to one side. “Did he retire?”

“Kind of.”

The atmosphere turns heavier and for a long while no word is spoken. The man in his suit changed position to a more comfortable one, scrolling off the tension he had piled up during his exchange with the other. His lack of respect towards the fat individual on his left doesn’t even get close to the feeling of disgust he has for that failed champion. He truly has enough of that silly, dramatic little play. He can’t wait to wake up and get back to his normal life.

_It’s not so bad, after all_ – he thinks, passing a hand on his head, eyes wide open as he feels something off.

“So… how does it feel like?” It doesn’t take much longer before the conversation is finally brought back by the man in the blue robe. He is looking gently at the one in his apron, genuinely curious about his life experiences. The other doesn’t immediately understand what he is referring to, so he gets more specific. “To have children, I mean.” He often wondered how things would have gone if he actually decided to stay in Hoenn and no person can tell better than the one sitting right in front of him.

A soft, melancholic smile opens on the cook’s lips as he recalls his dear ones. “It’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He starts, eyes watering a little. “They are everything to me.”

“They?” Joins the gym leader. “You have more?”

Kabu sighs in anguish, wiping off a part of his mind which he purposely kept fogged. “I have a son, as well.” He begins with a sad glance. “But we don’t talk anymore.”

“How come?” Abruptly asks the champion, back to his usual self. “Did you cheat on his mom or something?” He laughs.

No attempt to stop him is made as the other’s answer comes before anyone can speak their thoughts.

“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that.” He explains. “We’ve been divorced since our kids were small, still even now that they are adults it’s hard for them to see us apart.” A short pause is needed in order to find the best words to go ahead. “We’ve been living under the same roof for a long time, making sure they’d be growing up with both parents, but we allowed each other to see other people without them knowing.” He takes a deep breath, eyes lost to the dark floor as he adds more details. “Our kids… they knew we were not together anymore, but I guess they still hoped for us to join again someday.” His hands are shaking a little while he finally gets to the point. “It wasn’t going to happen, and my son found out.”

“How?” His arrogant look-alike insists out of mere curiosity.

“He saw me.” Words are shuddering in the cook’s mouth with a bitter flavour; shame and guilt are the main ingredients to that dish and they can’t be twisted, not even from him.

“Listen, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

His nightwear homonymous kindly prompts him not to go further, worried about his feelings.

“No, that’s ok.” He smiles back at him; for as much as he doesn’t like to recall those memories, opening about them is feeling awkwardly relieving. “Actually, I was wondering if we were all, well…”

“Attracted to men?”

He turns to his right, meeting the gym leader’s eyes. No answer is really needed from him as he has already guessed his question.

“He caught you while you were getting fucked?” The man in his suit chuckles. “Oh boy! I believe he was mad.”

“Easy!” Shouts his fat counterpart.

“I bet he was disgusted.” The arrogant individual smiles with bitterness, rage making its way through his heart, vibrating in his pupils and jaw. “You must be feeling awful for that, don’t you?” A shadow of resentment makes his tone to sound calm but ready to burst. “You divorced from his mom but you all still acted like a cute, lovely family. Really, what’s the point of that? What’s the point of feeding lies to the people you love?” He pauses for a short while, before going straight to the point. “I hope it wasn’t because you were… ashamed of yourself?”

The air is once again heavy and dense as the last who spoke is waiting for an answer. His humble look-alike is not shaking anymore, out of fear he defends his actions with an outstanding resolute tone. “I did what I felt was best for my children.” He begins, staring at his counterpart with pride. “I wanted them to grow up with their father and I will never even once regret my decision. It was the best choice I could make.”

“Yes. As the coward you are!” A furious champion stands up, walking closer towards the other, fists clenched in anger. “You have given up on your long-cherished dream, you worn a fucking apron and took over your father’s filthy place, and for what? Marrying someone you didn’t even like to fuck? Having children you kept lying to?” He takes a short break, allowing himself a mirthless laugh that echoes into the room, increasing the overall tension. “Well, I owe you my apologies.” He continues, lowering his tone with a serious look. “I thought you were slightly better than these two, but holy shit… you are the worst here.”

No reaction comes from his target, who is sitting just a few steps from him. The resolve he had gained just a few minutes ago is completely gone and his jaw is now trebling again.

_It’s true_ – he thinks, eyes facing nothing but the floor as they start filling up with tears. He has often wondered what would’ve been of him if he had kept chasing his dreams, and now he has three different outcomes to look at. It doesn’t matter if they were rejected, if they are still fighting or if they have accomplished everything; all of his trainer counterparts have had at least the guts to try, something he didn’t even dare doing.

He was so lost back in his youth, believing there was no hope for him to leave his country and learn new things. The only thing that prevented him from thinking he was a failure all along were his children. As a father, he had never once doubted about his choices. Since the day he first held his kids in his arms he has known he would’ve given his best to raise them making sure to be a positive figure, someone to love and trust as they were all growing up, teaching to each other.

However, that illusion was doomed to fall the moment he realized he had something to hide. It has been lying into his heart for a long time, the attraction to men, but he had never found the courage to face it. He only indulged to those thoughts when he was old enough to think it wasn’t worth to tell anyone, not even his grown up children, who he had lied for years.

It was only because of his lack of courage that his son felt betrayed to the point of neglecting him as a father.

“I wonder if your daughter is even looking for you.” No mercy is shown by the elegant individual, who keeps stepping on his heart with an inexplicable satisfaction. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she weren’t.”

“Enough!” His blue robe double stands up, quickly approaching him to stop him once and for all. He gets close enough to feel his breath, meeting his haughty arrogance with as much disdain. “You had your fun. Now, cut it off!”

Kabu looks down at him with a cold glance, the harshest he has ever reserved him. “Don’t you ever dare to raise your voice with me again, you joke of a man.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Someone better than you, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Get back to eat.”

It happens before anyone can figure it out, not even the man who’s grabbing the other’s shirt, pulling it so hard to rip off part of the collar. His grip is tight and full of rage, a feeling so strong that his clenched teeth are exposed. There is no real intention to harm, but this is something that he only realises later, when he catches a hint of fear in his opponent’s steady look. “My weight is a consequence of the meds.” He says through his teeth. “Get it into that scum-dyed head!” He lets go of him, stepping back with his eyes still staring at his dumbstruck face.

The champion puts a finger in the collar of his shirt, adjusting it back as much as he can without saying a word.

“I’m sorry.” The other passes a hand on his hair, apologising to the rest of his doubles. “I got carried away.” He sits back at his place and so it does the person he has attacked.

Again, the room goes quiet, leaving everyone alone with their thoughts. It’s the perfect moment to see if anyone has figured out where they are and no one can ask better than the man who always took the lead. “So… have you got an idea of what this place might be?”

The answers come all together from his left to his right.

“A dream.”

“A nightmare.”

“Death.”

But only the last statement is able to leave everyone in shock.

_Death?_ – they all think, equally scared at the thought.

“We are here because we died.” The man in his nightwear explains himself, eyes quickly passing by each of his look-alikes. “It can’t really be otherwise.”

“How can you be so sure?” The gym leader is the only one able to pull some words out of his throat. He had never trusted any kind of afterlife, giving credit to what could be proven, but that surrealistic situation brought his beliefs back into question.

He demands answers, and so do his counterparts.

“Because I have memory of it.” A deep sigh comes out from the man’s mouth while he starts opening up about his last moments.

“Do you remember yourself… dying?”

“Not exactly, but I knew it was going to happen.”

“Please, talk us about it.”

Kabu, the one in his bed-time clothes, sits with his legs crossed, comfortable enough to better deal with his own words. “Well, you might have figured it out by now, so… why not?” His eyes are pointing the floor with a thoughtful look, recalling memories he knew he would’ve ended up sharing – _it was just a matter of time_. “I had been thinking about it for so long. I knew where and how, but I wasn’t sure about when.” He swallows, lips curved in bitterness as his calm tone gets a bit shaky. “Then, I woke up to such a beautiful Sunday morning, and I felt it was the perfect day to die.”

Sights of sorrow and disbelief are pointing at him as he brings his story to an end.

“The last thing I can recall is being on my bed, looking at the ceiling. Waiting.”

An utter silence fills up the room once more, living everyone at their thoughts. There is sadness, and panic, and realization, and sadness again. The gym leader can’t take his eyes away from the man who he knows is telling the truth. He thinks back at the things he has left undone and the people he will never have the chance to see again.

_It’ll be the same for them –_ he figures out, and this is where the pain strikes harder.

Even the person who claimed it all to be a nightmare is now caught in realization, his hand touching the back of his head, finally getting all the answers.

“This means I’m not going to see my children anymore?”

Hearts break in everyone’s chest when the man in his apron starts thinking aloud.

“I’ll never have the chance to make up with my son?” His face covers in terror at the thought. He had spent so much time blaming himself, giving up on the opportunity of being forgiven because he could not see anything but his mistakes. Now that he is dead though, he wonders if there really wasn’t a small chance to talk things out.

“What’s his name?”

He turns to the gym leader, who is giving him a tender look. “Tarou.” A soft smile opens on his lips as he pronounces that word. “It’s been a while since I last said his name.”

No more questions come from the other, whose eyes are now pointing down, thoughtful.

“How about you?” Goes on the cook. “You have someone waiting for you at home, too. Right?”

The gym leader takes a few seconds to respond, then his lips curve upwards a little while he confirms his observation. “I have a marriage proposal at home.” He states, eyes vibrating in a sweet glance. “From Raihan.” He then adds, turning to the person sitting straight in front of him.

The champion meets his look with a steady, serious expression, the kind that reveals hidden thoughts. He is feeling called out, and this is the reason why he keeps staring at him even when his attention is brought back to the other.

“I still don’t know what to say.” Keeps going the man in his uniform. “On one hand, I want to say yes: he is the best thing that ever happened to me, as your children are to you. On the other hand, though… I’m scared of what people might say.”

“Because you’re both men?”

“Not really.” His eyes are pointing away when he prepares to confess what he has been denying for ages. “I fear the scandal.” There is no actual relief in the way those words are spoken, being something he feels ashamed of. “He is a colleague and he is much younger than I am, it’s the kind of thing that people won’t stop pointing out when it comes to your name.” He sighs, unloading his tension to find a resolute tone. “I don’t want that. I came all the way from Hoenn to a country I didn’t know anything about. I climbed up to the top, I fell, and I climbed up again. It was not easy, it required efforts, more than anyone can imagine.” A confident yet torn mind emerges in his tone as he remarks his words. “I want these efforts, my life-long efforts, to still be people’s first thought when they hear my name, not a relationship they will twist as they like.”

Before the other can say anything, a laugh breaks into the room, nervous and fiendish.

“Alright, alright! I got it.”

Everyone’s attention is brought to the champion, who is sitting far, elbows resting on his knees.

“I got the message, I’m an asshole!” He shouts, pushing himself forward to stand again. “There’s no need to remind me, really. I tell myself everyday.”

“What are you doing?” The gym leader asks for an explanation while the other starts wandering into the room, facing above.

“Whoever is manoeuvring this thing, let me tell you: it’s no use! It’s too late, I can’t really feel worse than this.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“You can doom me to listen to it as much as you like, I won’t feel worse, I just can’t!”

Tired of being ignored, the man in his uniform stands as well, finally losing his temper. “What have you done to Raihan?” He asks, out of fear and rage both; his arrogant counterpart is hiding something about the young man, he has known it since he first mentioned his name, reason why he brought him up again in the first place.

“Don’t!” The other meets his sight with fury, eyes burning for his accusatory words. “Don’t you dare to look at me like that! Only I can blame myself for what happened!” He stops to catch his breath, hands trembling as his forehead covers in sweat. “I told him it was a bad idea all along, but he wouldn’t listen!” His voice echoes into the room, drawing everyone’s attention. Their confused souls are torn in fear as they all listen to his confession, wondering what to expect. “My career… it was everything to me. I dedicated my whole existence to pokémon battles, it was my reason to live.” He takes a short break, before his lips curve in a soft, yet bitter smile. “Then, he came into my life… and everything changed.”

A renewed silence is found as well as more moderate tones. Even the gym leader, who has been keeping his fists clenched, is slowly allowing his muscles to relax, listening to his mysterious counterpart as his words deep reach into him like none of the stories he has just learnt.

“I so wanted to say yes.” Continues the last speaker. “But I had to make a choice, and I chose my career.”

“He asked you… the same thing?” Whispers the man in his uniform.

“Yes. And trust me, I tried anything to dissuade him. I even used my age as a scapegoat, telling him I was too old for him, that one day I would’ve died and he would’ve been lonely…” He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing in anger when he recalls his lover’s stubbornness. “He didn’t care. He kept saying his feelings went beyond things like death. And you know what? He was wrong!” His tone raises again before lowering down to a sad, regretful cry. “I had to tell him the truth. I had to tell him I didn’t want my reputation to fall apart.” Pupils are shuddering as tears make their way through his eyes. “He was _mad_.” He puts an accent on the last word, remembering the anger of when he last saw his man. “He slammed the door at me, he took his Flygon and fled away where he knew he would’ve found a challenge.” A short pause is needed before he can gain the courage to bring his story to the end. “The storm was violent, his Pokémon got hurt… he fell.”

No listener is speaking a word, hearts pulsing in their throat as the other keeps yelling his pain.

“I won the League because I owed him!” He shouts. “And then I became a selfish piece of shit who lives in regret! My accomplishments, my career… none of these things are important. Raihan was.” He faces down, finally allowing his tears out. “And I… I _killed_ him.”

That strong statement roars into the room, echoing in everyone’s head like a thunder. None of them expected such feelings to hide under that perpetual, wicked grin, especially the man standing straight in front of him. He was wrong all along, believing his counterpart to be the mind behind whatever happened to Raihan.

Ironically enough, he was truly blaming himself for his fate.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Says the gym leader with a low voice. “It was an accident.”

The other turns his head from side to side, denying his observation while tears keep running down his cheeks. “I killed him!” He cries again, stuck in his guilt. “ _You are here, thinking of your career, while I’d literally die for you._ ” Lips are trembling as he recalls Raihan’s last words. “It’s the last thing he told me. He kept his word.”

Silence is found again before the man in the blue robe breaks into the conversation, shaking his head in disagreement. “It doesn’t work like this.” He says, eyes full of empathy for his homonymous’ torment. “You don’t just decide to die to prove anything.” He looks at his counterpart with a renewed sweet glance, talking to him with the warmest tone. “I’m sure it was an accident.”

“You can’t say that.” An emotion different from any of the ones he had reserved him emerges on the man’s face. He doesn’t deserve that kindness, especially from him. “You didn’t even know him!”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Confirms the other, still keeping the same face. “But I do know something about suicide.” Everyone’s attention is now focused on his figure, waiting to hear more. “People do not seek death to punish anyone. They do because they are in pain.” His heart shivers and his chest gets warm as he remembers of when he was alive. “Every little thing is a struggle, from when you first open your eyes in the morning to when you close them at night. And nothing, not even the things you once loved give you any relief.” People thinking he gave up on life because he didn’t manage to climb back to the Majors were always wrong. His drop down to the Minor League was actually just the beginning of his internal struggle, something he had always faced alone, thinking it was his burden to carry, realising only in death how wrong he was. “I didn’t want to die.” He says, moving his attention from the gym leader to the cook, and eventually looking back at the champion. “I just wanted to end the pain.”

No one adds anything, allowing that last sentence to dwell in their minds as each of them starts to process their new condition. Sights are either pointing the void or the floor, questioning the future and the past both. No Kabu is really thinking about the present time, the only moment where things actually are established.

This is why the next exclamation comes out of the blue, for the apron man himself and then for all of his look-alikes.

“Maki?” His eyes widen in shock; mouth trembling, hands shaking. “Maki!” He stands up for the first time since he has sat, looking around to find his so long-sought daughter. “Can you hear her? She’s calling me!”

Everyone is overturned, not being able to hear the girl’s voice. They look at each other, questioning the same thing, and when they finally turn back to the worried dad he is nowhere to be seen.

He is just… gone.

_What? –_ They all jump up from their seat, shaking in a mixture of anguish and fear.

“Where did he just go?” Asks the man in his nightwear.

“I don’t know.” The gym leader struggles to keep his calm, equally shocked at the mysterious disappearance. “But if it’s true that he heard his daughter…”

“Does it mean… we are not dead yet?”

“It might.”

Kabu swallows, breath rate increasing as the hope of a second chance makes its way through his heart. It was his choice to end his life, yet the prospect to go back sends a shiver down his spine. He is wondering if things would be different now that he has found himself back again, something he was not able to do before meeting his alter egos. “What should we do?” He looks at the man on his left, trustful of his good judgement.

“We just wait and see what happens.”

That said, they all sit back at their place, forming a much smaller circle, seeking the other’s presence rather than avoiding it; they are no longer strangers, they learnt. In fact, they have never felt closer to anyone before.

“If you get to go back, are you gonna say yes?”

The gym leader looks at the elegant man, who is still not able to meet his eyes. His tone never sounded so calm, it reminds him of the apron man who left. “I don’t know.” He replies, waiting no longer. “I will tell him the truth, that’s for sure. It’s the best thing I can do for both.”

“That’s silly of you.” Comments the other, still facing down. “If you tell him the truth, you know what the outcome is going to be.”

“No, I don’t.” The gym leader turns his head from side to side. “No one knows. You can only make your choices. What’s coming next… it is not something we are allowed knowing.”

The champion isn’t sure of how to feel acknowledging those words, but he is slowly coming to terms with his sins. His hands who he had been feeling covered in his lover’s blood are suddenly cleaner at touch. He looks at his own palms, finding back the good self he had forgotten, a part of him that never really left him, waiting for the right moment to wake again, brightening his dark soul.

“I feel the need to thank you.” He starts saying, slowly raising his head to meet the man’s face.

But the moment he was ready to finally confront his eyes, an empty seat is all he can see before him.

“He is gone!” Exclaims the man in his nightwear, equally shocked at that second, inexplicable event.

“What?” Panic suddenly strikes into his chest, driving him to clench his fingers into the other man’s clothes. His grip is strong on the sleeve of his blue robe as tears run down his cheeks once again. “It’s gonna be me!” He shouts, fear growing in his heart. “I’m gonna stay here… alone!” His eyes widen at the surrounding black space, unable to see anything but his dark fate.

“No!” Kabu reassures him, trying to calm him down. “We are going to go back, just like them!” He actually has no clue, it’s like the gym leader said, but of one thing he is sure: he doesn’t want him to be in pain. Not again. Not like that.

“I’m certainly not.” The elegant man shakes his head, sure of his words. “This suit I’m wearing, I realized just earlier… my funeral has already happened!”

Really little can be done to deny his assumption, which makes sense to the other as it would to the gym leader himself. He doesn’t know how much time he has to make a choice, but he is quick to realize he doesn’t actually need any as he knew what to do the moment he heard his story. “You’re not going to be lonely.” He smiles, bringing his hand to his cheek, finding his eyes through the tears. “I’m gonna stay.”

Kabu weeps dreadfully, clenching harder to his clothes as the other holds him in safeness, gently stroking his back. “But… I insulted you!” His voice is chocked and his jaw trembles in front of that love he doesn’t deserve.

“You are forgiven.” Says his counterpart, putting emphasis on each word before repeating himself for them both. “You are forgiven.”

It’s been a while since they both started to look at that endless horizon, sat side by side because they are unique, but still holding the other’s hand as they once belonged to the same being.

Silence has been filling that space they used to see as a cold room, until it’s the man in his suit to speak up again. He is facing above, looking at the black sky over them as if he could spot stars in it.

“I was hit by a ball.” He states, eyes lost to the void. “I came to realize earlier, I have a bump on the back of my head.”

Kabu turns to him, his hand holding the other's a little tighter. “How do you feel now that you know?”

He slowly shakes his head with a neutral expression on his face. “It doesn’t make any difference.” He admits, allowing a short break before speaking again. “How about you?” He asks. “Do you regret what you did?”

“I’m the same as you.” Says the man in the blue robe, bringing his sight back to the sky with a serious look. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”


End file.
